Along the Road
by Hysteria0
Summary: The prison fell and Beth was alone for the first time in her life. When she encountered a man who had never looked at her twice, everything she assumed to be true drifted into a perplexing haze. While walking the thin road between life and death, Beth is faced with the challenge of saving a man's soul. Somewhere along that road, two very different paths intertwine.
1. Chapter 1

A lone raindrop slid down the gentle curve of her face, leaving a cool path in its wake. It split in two, then continued to her neck. Beth reached up to wipe it off, peering at it in surprise. She couldn't recall the last time it had rained. Had it been before the farm was overrun? She wasn't sure, not in the least, because time didn't seem to hold much importance anymore. Beth looked up to the sky, hoping for another refreshing drop of water to soothe her sweating form. The sky was flushed pink, blurred by the tiny rain droplets piercing the air. It was pouring, and suddenly very cold. She wrapped her arms around herself to keep warm, something seeming very off. Her vision became distorted, seeing shapes moving in the distance. Another raindrop caressed her face.

Beth awoke, releasing a desperate, wheezing gasp. Her hand quickly clapped over her mouth, quieting her ragged breaths. She laid deathly still, fearful that she may have alerted someone or something of her presence. She took in her moonlit surroundings, remembering the previous night. The first shelter she come to –a farm house– had looked so comforting. It provided such a sense of familiarity that she couldn't bear to pass it by. Waves of nostalgia overcame Beth as she brushed her hand against the pleasantly smooth wooden floor, recognizing the cedar from her own home. She thought of all the nights that her Daddy spent polishing the wood, kneeling on the floor with a rag in his hand. As soon as she saw him, she would hurry to help, not being able to stand the thought of her aging father working so hard. He just looked so fragile. _And he was_ Beth thought._ The Governor proved that yesterday_. She rubbed at her eyes before she could cry.

Her fingers touched something sticky, and wet. Just as she lifted her hand to inspect it, something dripped onto her cheek, landing with a resonating plunk. Beth fumbled around beside her in the darkness, searching for the flashlight she found yesterday. She clicked the button on and shined it onto her left hand. A loud cry slipped past her lips before she could stop it. Her unsteady arm dropped the flashlight, sending it rolling to the side. It spun around the floor, finally pointing in the direction of a long mirror leaning against the wall. Within a few seconds, she'd managed to calm her breathing, and had regained composure. She looked around. The eerie white glow of the room terrified her, so she sat up and reached for the flashlight.

She faced the mirror, seeing a small crouched figure staring back at her, covered in dried blood. Its hair was tangled and greasy, its body hollow and pale from so many months spent inside. Beth froze, backing away from the being, which mimicked her motions. A tear escaped her glossy eyes when she realized the figure was her.

She felt another drip land on her, trailing down her bare shoulder. She bent forward and grasped the flashlight, tilting it to the ceiling. A deep red stain was visible on the plaster above her. A red droplet clung to the ceiling, slowly increased in size, then fell to the ground at her feet. Her heart was pulsing in her chest as she realized. Something was bleeding out on the second story. Beth wasn't alone.

She padded into the kitchen with hopes of finding a better weapon than her meager Swiss army knife. She pulled a butcher's knife from a block on the counter, then pocketed her much smaller weapon. Her entire form shook as she shined the flashlight up the staircase, then began to delicately ease her weight onto the first step. It didn't made a sound so she decided to continue upwards, all the while considering making a run for it._ If only it was daytime_, Beth thought. _Then I could leave._

She reached the top of the staircase and came to a hallway. There was a small bathroom to her right, which appeared empty. Beth took a step inside and scanned its entirety, even forcing herself to check behind the shower curtain. Her light passed over the counter, glinting off a piece of metal. She took a step closer, examining the bloodied dagger in front of her. The blood was still wet.

Beth backed out of the room, flinching as her sore body hit the staircase banister. There was a long, narrow hallway going in the other direction with a single crimson door at the end of it. She trembled as she walked down the foreboding hall, feeling as if she was being lead to a death row. Her breathing was heavy and loud as she came to the door, fingers gripping the doorknob. She turned her wrist and pushed. The flashlight's unsteady beam of light ended in the center of the room.

She gulped, looking at the bloodstained walker in front of her. It released a feral snarl as it tried to grab her, flailing savagely on the ground. Beth wondered why it hadn't come for her yet, then her eyes traveled to its abdomen. A thick blade pinned the creature to the floor, holding it there in its own puddle of blood. She took a step closer, gripping her knife tightly. The walker's filmy eyes glared at her lustfully in the moonlight as she neared it. It was half a foot away when she bent to stab it.

The creature grabbed her ankle roughly until she fell to the ground, her flashlight flew against the wall then went out. Beth desperately thrashed her feet to get away, her heart pounding deeply in her chest. The walker pulled her body against it, dead clammy hands all over her. It was so dark. She could only make out the shape of her attacker. She let out a short scream as she forced the knife into the being in front of her, realizing too late that she had only pierced the neck. Narrowly avoiding its open jaw, the terrified girl pushed her foot against the walker's face as she tore the knife from its flesh. She brought her weapon forward again, this time digging into the skull. Beth had to use all of her strength to puncture the thick human scalp, but the blade met its target. The walker's arms dropped from her leg as she cried out in pain. Her hand had slid down the handle of the knife and was sliced open by its sharp edge.

Beth pushed the limp body off of her, cringing away. Her thin fingers wrapped around the flashlight and flicked it back on, focusing the beam of light on her bleeding hand. A red gash marked her right hand across the length of her palm. She frowned as she tore a strip of fabric from her flimsy tank top, knowing that without careful watch, the cut would become infected. She used the fabric to bandage it tightly, then looked back to the dead walker. _Or at least more dead than it was a minute ago_, Beth thought dryly.

As its vacant eyes stared back at her, she realized that she couldn't stay here. There was too much blood.

She retrieved the kitchen knife from the body then made her way downstairs. Aside from a faux leather rucksack and a few water bottles, she hadn't found anything of use in the bedroom. Once in the kitchen, Beth stood on her toes to search the cabinets. Her eyes shone with unadulterated joy as she saw a pack of granola bars and a bag of beef jerky. She quickly wolfed down two chocolate-flavored bars then swept the rest into her bag, along with the jerky. The remaining cabinets were empty, with the exception of a small flask in the back of the last one. She reached in to grab it, then directed her flashlight at the label.

"Moonshine," Beth murmured, quirking a blonde eyebrow. She vaguely recalled Merle Dixon chugging this back at the prison.

_"Can I have some of that?" Beth asked quietly. Merle snorted and pushed the bottle into her hand. She brought the bottle to her lips and tilted it up. Then her eyes met her Father's._

_"Bethy! Put that down! You'll go blind!" Hershel exclaimed, a look of disappointment on his face. Her expression drooped slightly as she returned the bottle to Merle, receiving a glance of pity from the eldest Dixon. Cheeks bright with embarrassment, she walked back to her cell. Beth sat on her cot, thinking, until nearly everyone was asleep. She heard the Dixon brothers walk by as she began to drift off._

_"You tryin' to get yerself kicked out, Merle? Givin' Moonshine to the preacher's daughter?" Daryl demanded, his words floating into her cell. There was a moment of silence, followed by a hushed string of defensive cursing from Merle. "People like her can't handle that kind of drink anyhow."_

People like her.

She glared at the label once more, shrugged, then placed it in her bag. She swung the leather strap over her shoulder and walked out the front door, shutting it lightly. Her bandaged right hand clicked off the flashlight and stowed it away when she saw the sun peaking over the horizon. As she walked down the steps, Beth spotted a metal bat leaning against a thick tree. She trotted over, picking up the bat and holding it against her shoulder. She fondly remembered playing baseball with Maggie and Glenn, back on the farm. Beth tucked the good memories to the back of her mind and walked along the dirt road.

She forced herself to continue for three miles until she reached a small rural town. The location seemed familiar to her; perhaps she'd gone shopping there before. Nestled in between a laundromat and a barber's shop was an old fashioned pharmacy. A sign above the door labeled the building _Everett Pharmacy_. The entire front was covered in a lightly tinted glass, concealing whatever could be lingering inside. Beth considered the risk of going inside. If she made it, she could take care of the cut on her hand and stock up on supplies. If she didn't...then that would be it, she supposed. _Don't think like that!_ she scolded herself. _Just a quick in and out, it'll be easy._

After a prolonged scan of the area, she sprinted from the relative safety of the woods path towards the pharmacy. The only sound was her sneakers landing heavily on dirt-covered pavement while she crossed the road. Beth huffed for air as she came to the glass door of the pharmacy. She peered behind her to make sure nothing was following her, then tried the handle. It was locked, obviously.

Beth pressed her face against the window, with hopes of getting a glimpse inside. Amidst a mess of medicine and overturned shelves, her eyes caught on a pile of arrows. She furrowed her eyebrows, trying to rid herself of an aching familiarity. Beth distinctly remembered seeing those arrows near her cell block, and she was fairly certain of their owner.

Drawing the bat behind her head, she hit it against the window with as much force as she could muster. A crack ran up the side of the glass. She raised the bat and brought it down once again, but this time the glass shattered. She covered her eyes as the broken window scattered over the sidewalk, praying that she knew whoever lingered in pharmacy. After a glance behind her, Beth hesitantly stepped into the entrance, glass cracking beneath her sneakers. She noticed that the arrows were nowhere in sight and looked up, coming face to face with a crossbow. Slightly higher was a pair of familiar blue eyes.

"Daryl?" she exclaimed, moving forward. "Is that you?"

"Keep still!" he hollered from across the room. Beth stepped once more and abruptly found herself pulled into the air by a net under her feet. Daryl, who was standing along the edge of the net, dropped his crossbow as he was also heaved upwards. A second later, Beth was pressed against his chest, dangling from the high ceiling of_ Everett Pharmacy_.

"You dumb or somethin'?" he growled into her ear, trying to push away from her. "Thought I told ya not to move." As woodsy scent drifted to her nose, she leaned her head as far back from Daryl as she could. Beth blushed a bright red in embarrassment, cursing herself for being so clumsy.

"I'm sorry," she rushed out in a hushed voice. "I wasn't thinking." He mumbled something incoherent, then looked over her shoulder as he heard glass breaking. She felt him tense against her, then slowly lean closer, his chin hovering beneath her ear.

"Don't you move," he said quietly. "An' this time I _fuckin_' mean it."

**Author's Note:**  
Welcome to Along the Road! I've been torn between writing a Daryl/Beth or a Rick/OC story for a while now, but as you can see I've finally chosen. I appreciate any and all reviews. If you have comments or suggestions, please let me know. Also, I do my best to proof read but there could potentially be spelling errors!


	2. Chapter 2

She listened as a group of walkers entered the pharmacy, her eyes widening in fear. Beth bit her lip to calm her heavy breathing, at least so Daryl couldn't call her out on it. A walker stumbled into her view, then made its way to the other side of the room. She winced as it stepped on an arrow and snapped it in half. Unable to bear the tension of the pharmacy any longer, Beth nudged the man next to her.

"I've got a knife," Beth whispered. "It's in my back pocket. I can't get it." Daryl nodded in response then slowly reached around her with as little contact as possible, pulling the Swiss Army Knife from her pocket. He opened it and looked at the weapon with a frown.

"Ya call this a knife?" he grunted, pressing the blade against the rope. As he began to saw at the netting above them, a walker glanced up and snarled. A moment later, four walkers were clawing at the bottom of the net, which hung just out of their reach. Daryl worked faster, wearing the rope down to just a meager string. "Soon as I cut this, yer gonna hang on to the rope till I get rid of those bastards." She nodded in confirmation and grasped the rope that was attached to the ceiling. He brought the blade back to the netting once more, then fell to the ground as it tore. Beth watched in fascination as he bent his knees to lessen the impact, and immediately ran for his crossbow. Her fingers tightened around the rope when she felt her arms start to hurt.

Daryl loaded an arrow and pierced the first walker through the eye. He subsequently shot two more, each through the skull. Beth saw a brief flash of panic on his face when he realized the last arrow was broken. With only a moment's hesitation, she allowed herself to drop to the ground, mimicking his landing. Her feet weren't as sure as his, so it took a moment to regain her balance. As soon as she did, the girl dashed after the walker, purposely making as much noise as possible. The creature turned to look at Beth, then must have decided she would be easier to prey on.

Daryl quickly retrieved his arrows and aimed at the walker that was pursuing Beth. She pushed a shelf into its path to buy herself time, then moved out of the way as he shot the creature. Daryl made eye contact with Beth, an indecipherable look on his face.

"You don't listen much, do ya?" he deadpanned. She cringed at his tone, but was relieved that he didn't seem too angry. Daryl looked to the pile of rope in front of him, examining the knots that had held the netting up. "I dunno who set that trap, so we better get a move on." As he went to collect his arrow, she threw some food into her rucksack and picked up her bat. A sideways glance at Daryl revealed that he was staring pointedly at her bloody hand. She'd nearly forgotten about it. Beth found a first-aid kit to clean up the knife wound and bandaged it with gauze. Meanwhile, Daryl tossed supplies into his own bag.

"Are you alone?" Beth asked, thinking of Maggie.

"Jus' me," he replied with a shrug. Then he looked back to her, perhaps in irritation. "Suppose I ain't alone no more."

* * *

Without much of an explanation, Daryl carefully led Beth to a hunting and sporting store a few blocks down. She paused at the doorway to ready her bat.

"Cleared it this mornin'. Ain't nothin in there," he said gruffly, pushing Beth aside to open the door. Once she cautiously wandered in, Daryl locked them inside the dim store. He pointed to a torn package on the ground. "See them right there? Look for more of 'em." She picked up the plastic and saw a picture of a man shooting a crossbow on the cover. It was labeled _Horton Bolts._ For the next ten minutes, they searched the shelves and back room for the strange arrows to no avail. Beth found a similar looking package containing regular arrows.

"Could these work?" she questioned weakly, holding up what she had found. He looked at her like she had three heads.

"The hell you thinkin'? Those ain't even bolts!" he stormed. When he saw the confused look on her face, he lowered his voice and reluctantly tried to explain. "Arrows are for regular bows, bolts are for what I got." Beth nodded in understanding then continued to search. As the afternoon faded into the evening, the letters on the packaging become difficult to read. She strained her eyes just to see the images on the labels. Without Daryl knowing, Beth gave up their fruitless search and tried to collect things she deemed useful. As the last sliver of sunlight began to disappear, Daryl kicked away a pile of merchandise then slumped to the floor.

"Guess we'll have to stay here for the night," he admitted in defeat. "Can't be out there in the dark." Beth started to form a coherent reply, but trailed off in the middle of her sentence. Daryl spared her a glance and saw the girl passed out on a mountain of boat cushions. He chewed his lip thoughtfully, then finally decided to settle in for the night. He leaned against a wall and tried to fall asleep, but his mind was elsewhere.

_Daryl observed furtively as Beth cradled Judith in her arms and sang to her softly. Merle pocketed a small bag of blue meth, then smirked at Daryl. _

_"You tappin' that, lil' brother?" he asked loudly, snickering to himself. Daryl swore at him and pushed him against a concrete wall, much to Merle's chagrin. A second later, the eldest Dixon had his brother pinned by the neck, a feeling Daryl knew all too well. "Yer right. No preacher would let his little flower near trash like us, brother. Don't you forget that." Daryl's lips abruptly turned downward as he socked Merle in the gut and ducked under what would've been a shiner. He pointed an accusing finger at Merle's chest._

_"Things ain't how they used to be, Merle. I ain't your bitch no more," he snarled._

**Author's Note:**  
Thank you to everyone who reviewed last chapter, I really appreciate it. If you have a second, please drop a comment!  
I'd like to mention that I'm trying to include some Easter eggs in this story, let me know if you find them.  
Finally, my friend ImagineRepublic encouraged me to write this, and is also writing a Beth/Daryl fiction._  
_Jeez this is a super short chapter. Feel free to read it on your phone so it looks longer.  
Thanks again for reading!_  
_


	3. Chapter 3

Her eyes snapped open as something nudged her back. Beth sat up and looked behind her, half expecting to see a corpse gnawing on her small body. She was mildly surprised when Daryl Dixon stood over her, his face set in a permanent scowl.

"'Bout time you got up. We're burnin' daylight, so get movin'," he said impatiently. Beth looked to the front of the store, noticing he'd packed a large backpack for himself. She scanned the shelves for anything to put into her bag, settling on a long hunting knife with a leather pouch and some protein bars. Her fingers brushed against the Moonshine at the bottom of her leather pouch.

"Should we take sleeping bags?" Beth questioned, holding up two compact bags.

"If ya wanna carry them. I gotta hold my bow," Daryl replied, swinging the supplies over his shoulder. He picked up his crossbow, which was loaded with a shiny new arrow, and made his way to the door. Beth saw him glance at her to make sure she was following, feeling relieved that he had no intentions to leave her behind. He slowly eased the door open, allowing early morning sunlight to pour into the hunting store.

Daryl stepped onto the sidewalk to check in both directions, then abruptly backed up. Beth blushed and nearly fell over as his back met her chest. He spared her a glance as she stumbled backwards, probably wanting to roll his eyes. Then, he moved forward again and quickly shot the walker that was wandering the sidewalk. He gestured for her to follow him.

She jogged after him, only stopping as he retrieved the bloody arrow and wiped it on the walker's shirt. They traveled alongside the buildings for a while until he came to a corner. He peered around it then backed into Beth for the second time.

"Move quietly," he said in a low voice, ignoring her grunt of surprise. "There's a group of them over there. More than I can handle alone." She had known she wouldn't be much help, but she suddenly felt completely useless, and sorry that Daryl was stuck with her. All those years of living a sheltered life were coming back to haunt her. She bit her lip to prevent herself from crying.

If Daryl noticed her struggle, he didn't acknowledge it, instead crossing the street onto a deserted country road. Beth ran after him, trying to move as silently as he did. She frowned in frustration as her sneakers clicked on the pavement in comparison to his skillful tread. At first she believed his stealth was the result of his hunting experience, but she soon realized that everything about Daryl was quiet. She could count on her fingers the number of sentences he'd said to her today.

Once they were deep within the cover of the trees, they settled into a more leisurely pace. Beth breathed heavily in response to all of the jogging. She was one of the few that hadn't left the prison for months. Consequently, she was ill-prepared for traveling on the road. If only she hadn't spent the majority of her time holding Judith and doing laundry. She could have easily asked someone to give her training of some sort. She sighed in regret and a heavy silence fell over the two of them.

Hours passed and still they walked further. By late afternoon, her legs and feet were burning from exertion. Beth could feel blisters on her ankles and bruises forming on her toes. For the past hour, she'd wanted to ask Daryl to take a break, but feared his response. She was nearly certain he would yell at her for her weakness and force her to continue on. She decided to try anyways.

"Daryl?" she asked, her voice weak from lack of water. He grunted to show he was listening. "Could we please stop for a few minutes?" Her big blue eyes begged him to agree. He considered for a moment, avoiding eye contact.

"Wondered when you were gonna ask," he said, casting her a sideways glance. He gestured to a farm house a ways down the road. "Might as well stop there for the night." She nodded gratefully as they walked a while further, becoming more alert as they approached the small house. Daryl set down his bags on the steps and looked into the window. He grabbed her arm and pulled her next to him, pointing into the living room. Through the pollen-covered window, she saw an elderly male walker standing still. He was solemnly facing the wall, and it appeared he hadn't noticed them yet.

"I want you to get rid of him," Daryl told her as her eyes widened. Her heart pounded as he reached into the leather pouch on her belt and removed the hunting knife. She tried to focus on the task at hand, but his close proximity was getting to her, for reasons unbeknownst.

Daryl placed the knife in Beth's hand and quietly opened the front door. Her tired body carried her into the house as she made her way to the next room over. She saw the walker sniff the air, the turn towards her with a growl. It hobbled in her direction, snarling and grabbing at her. Once it came within her reach, she extended her arm and pierced its skull with the blade. Blood spilled onto her fingers and she quickly wiped it off to avoid infecting the cut on her palm.

Beth let out a small cry as the lifeless corpse fell on top of her, pinning her to the ground. Her nose wrinkled in disgust at the putrid smell of the rotting flesh. She looked to Daryl for help and he hurried over to push the body off of her. Beth stood up and saw her loose shirt was covered in blood. She cringed and turned to face Daryl, who clearly wasn't impressed.

"Hope ya can do better than that," he said scowling at her. Daryl aimed an accusatory glare at her, shaking his head. "Even Hershel ain't that sloppy."

Beth's chest abruptly tightened. She was so deep in thought that she didn't even notice how her fingers dug into her palms, creating small crescent-shaped marks. Daryl blinked with realization as he watched the girl break down.

Beth couldn't believe he'd said _that_. She was certain he could handle anything but that. His snide remarks were nothing compared to reminding her of her father's horrific death.

_Her fingers wove into the prison fence, watching her father kneeling beside the Governor. Rick tried to negotiate, calling out ways to compromise, but his pleading came up short. She began to scream as the sword came down on her daddy's neck._

She slumped to the floor as she cried, refusing to meet Daryl's gaze for fear of what it would hold. Concern? Pity? _Irritation_?

Beth heard him exit the room, leaving her to fight her own demons. 

**Author's Note:**  
Sorry I left you hanging for so long! Unfortunately, this is more of a transitional chapter before more interesting stuff happens. Not sure if I'm doing Daryl's character justice? I swear he won't always be such a jerk.  
Anyways, let me know what you think, your comments mean the world to me! Thanks again for reading.


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